


Anticipation

by dame_de_la_chance



Category: Code Lyoko
Genre: AU, Angst, Blood, Death, Gore, It is not, One-Shot, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This was supposed to be a drabble, garbage kids au, it’s more like an au to the au, this got way out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 19:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12824181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dame_de_la_chance/pseuds/dame_de_la_chance
Summary: Odd’s Future Flashes are starting to become alarming. He’s seeing futures without him, whispers of ghosts, or a void of darkness. He can’t understand them, and feels as if he’s going insane. What is he missing?





	Anticipation

Lately, those reveries he’s been having are starting to worry him. He’s had them for months, ever since he first stepped into the scanners, into the world of Lyoko and faced the monsters of Xanadu. He tried his hardest to get used to them, but they sometimes caught him off guard.

In class, he’ll have them, images flickering before his eyes in what feels like seconds but were really minutes. 

Visions danced across his eyes as he was transported to a different world, a future that was certain to come. Mistaken for daydreams, they occasionally interferes with his life.

Unlike Yumi and Ulrich, Odd couldn’t quite control his Future Flashes, as he preferred to call them (Anticipation was a cool name, but Future Flashes was even better); they came and went as they pleased, often at the worst times.

Once, during the beginning, he had one while he was walking down the stairs, talking to Ulrich as they went to geometry. He had froze, mid step, and fell down the stairs as he imagined the next attack. He didn’t understand why he was on the ground, why Ulrich was so worried when the flash was over, or why he was sprawled across the tiled floor of the school with a busted chin.

Even now, months after finding out the groups secret, he still couldn’t control the visions that invaded his daily life. He became acquainted to them, but he didn’t control them. They controlled him. And he was okay with that. 

They were handy, although Jeremie didn’t seem to like them much. They made him defenceless on Lyoko, he argued. They weakened him, made him an easy target. 

He wasn’t wrong. The visions that pervaded his mind did cause him to freeze, like a deer in a headlight, unresponsive to the world around him that slowly crumbled to a future yet to come.

But they were important. They linked him to predicting Xanadu’s next attack, allowed him to predict what will happen. It let them prepare for the worst, to plan ahead. It saved all of them, at least once before, from certain death. They all knew that, just like Yumi’s telepathy and Ulrich’s super speed has saved them all.

But sometimes, the visions didn’t even correlate to an attack. They sometimes didn’t have anything to do with Lyoko or Xandu. They would predict more domestic times. Sometimes he’d see himself making a joke, or he’d see Jeremie and Ulrich discuss something mundane, or watch Yumi and Hiroki fight. He’d see simple things yet to come, see small, meaningless details that meant everything to him. They promised a peaceful future, a normal life.

But lately, the visions have been decreasing in quantity. They have been losing the clarity they once had, and faces start to blend together, voices starting to sound alike. Sometimes, he can’t even remember what happened in the Flashes, only that they did happen.

He hadn’t told Jeremie or the others yet. He wants sure how they would respond. 

He wasn’t sure if it mattered. But it did frighten him. It did make him fear the future more than usual, fear that maybe, something was going to go wrong, and that no prediction of his could save him.   
Or he was overreacting. He didn’t know. And he was afraid to find out.

 

The condition only worsened from there. 

The phantasmes were becoming alarmingly less frequent. The last attack they had wasn’t predicted by him; there wasn’t a Future Flash to warn him of the military satellite that would be taken over by the malicious virus. They had been left in the dark this time, without the slightest inkling as to what would happen next.

His friends were starting to notice. It had been weeks since his last Future Flash, and he didn’t understand what it meant. He didn’t understand what he saw or why he saw it or what was happening to him. All he knew was that it was worsening. 

In the last flash he had, he couldn’t see. 

It was pitch black, like someone had turned off the sun, like the darkness of night, moly more intense. He could hear whispers, voices, snippets of conversations he couldn’t understand nor fathom. Ghosts of words fled his senses but nothing else. 

Then he woke up, his eyes focusing back on the library book in his hand, back to the literary analysis presentations he was supposed to be paying attention to. Back to the sounds of pens clicking, feet tapping, humming, clocks ticking, fingers drumming. The lights in the room were too bright, and nausea had flooded his head, his stomach rolling. He had to excuse himself from English, earning a worried look from Ulrich, whom he shared the class with. He had ignored it as he fled.

He still didn’t understand the vision. What were they saying? Who were they? Why couldn’t he see?

He couldn’t focus on his studies anymore after that. Words mangled and mixed together on paper, numbers melted into something incoherent and formulas became foreign to him. He could barely eat, and only did so to please his friends. 

If they learned that he was starving himself, the boy who’s stomach seemed to be an endless void, they’d be concerned. He didn’t want to worry them, not until he understood. Not until he figured out if it meant anything, or if he was worrying himself over nothing.

He didn’t sleep much, not anymore. He couldn’t. The vision nagged at him, the voice in back of his head pushing him to figure it out even in the shadows of night. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know what he was seeing.

Nobody noticed. He didn’t want them too.

 

He was even more perturbed than before. Weeks after the strange vision, he had a scarce few more that left him with more questions. Sometimes, they’d be excactly like the one before, except no sounds, no whispers or murmurs or voices of any kind. It was as if all of his senses had been shut off, no taste or smell or touch or sight of sound. He felt lost in the blackness, the void.

He wondered if he was just passing out at this point.

That had been proven wrong when he had one while he was speaking to Yumi about the new play. As far as he could tell, he had been in peak physical condition that day. Yumi didn’t bring it up; him having a Future Flash in the middle of a conversation was a normal occurrence by now.

They were real Future Flashes. But he didn’t understand their purpose.

The others alarmed him almost as much as the sightless future. They would be snippets of weeks in advance (he once caught a glimpse of a calendar that showed him the date). They would be of Ulrich of Yumi or Jeremie or all three, some even including Sissi. 

But he was no where to be seen. 

Some of them were in Ulrich and his dorm, but he was no where to be seen. Sometimes, his belongings were missing from the room. 

He’d have flashes of them at Lyoko, but he wasn’t with them. They’d be at gym class, and he wasn’t there. They’d be hanging out at the vending machine, and he was still missing in action. Where was he?

It was terrifying to see a future without him in it. It was terrifying to see your friends hanging out without you, knowing that you were alone somewhere. But why? Why was he secluded from their group?

He was starting to suspect why. He was trying to connect the dots, and the picture it was forming was even worse than the idea of isolation. He was uneasy at it, and tried to find a way to debunk it. 

It wasn’t likely, anyway. There was another reason. He was sure.

 

He found the answers to all his questions nearly a week later. It was Saturday, during the last class of the day before they could hang out. He was excited to leave; they were going to head into town for a movie. 

He was in the middle of physics when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Covertly, he slipped the small device into his hand to check the new message, making sure the teacher’s back was facing him. He didn’t need any more detention.

Jeremie: New attack. Tower activated. Meet at factory ASAP. Attack plan unknown.

Jeremie needed them at the factory. He slipped it back in his purple pants and glanced up. The teacher was still droning on about electrical circuits and the difference between a series and a parallel circuit. It probably wasn’t that important. Nothing was more important than saving the world.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” He blurted out, raising his hand after he spoke. The older woman turned around, annoyance flashing in her face as she was interrupted. “I’m not feeling too good… can I go to the nurse? Or at least the bathroom…?”

He faked looking sick, hunching over for emphasis. It wasn’t difficult to convince her; he was certain he looked ill. Ever since the strange visions plagued him, he’s been lacking in sleep and nutrition, making dark bags appear under his eyes and his skin grow even more pale. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, but the change had been so gradual he almost hadn’t noticed it himself.

She sighed and nodded, motioning for him to leave. Eagerly, he took the offer before she could change her mind, and quickly exited the class. Checking to make sure no one was around, he started to sprint as fast as he could, wishing he had Ulrich’s speed, and attempted to reach the factory.

Jeremie didn’t seem to know what Xanadu’s attack was. He needed to be on high alert, just in case. The last attack was a mess, and they had only just discovered the return to the past feature; Odd wasn’t sure how often Jeremie would be able to use it. He didn’t want to push their luck.

He could feel something shift in the floor, pulsations racking his small body, and he tripped as the ground shuddered. His sight blurred and the corners of his vision started to fade to black, the hallway gaining a dreamy, hazy quality before it shut to black

He was having a Future Flash. He cursed his luck as the inky, ebony setting swallowed him whole, and his body became locked. He couldn’t hear or see or feel anything, the earthquakes from before being shut out as his mind showed him the daunting future. His consciousness went adrift, and he felt as if he was floating.

The blackness started to fade back into a tan colour he recognised as the school walls, and he was thankful. He started to gain feeling in his muscles again, and a shiver ran down his spine.

It was certainly not the first reverie of that nature, but a new sense of terror filled his lungs, suffocating him quietly. Desperation shoved all other emotions away, and he wasn’t sure why he was feeling that way.

He sat back up, and realised that the few minutes taken by his phantasm had costed him useful time. The earthquakes were growing even stronger, and he noticed parts of the floor had cracked. The fire alarm was blaring, and if he glanced out the window to his right, he’d see a line of students out in the courtyard, monitored by fretful teachers.

He didn’t understand why they were outside. Maybe it was only the school collapsing; it wasn’t an earthquake? His eyes widened. He needed to leave before the building caved in.

He hoped Yumi and Ulrich were having an easy time. He hoped they would be quick.

He rushed to his feet and stumbled upward, clumsily running as hard as he could. He had to leave. He had to get out.  
The windows were too thick to break by himself. He had to find the emergence exit, or the school entrance. He was on the second floor, however; he needed to get to the first, quickly.

Another shift in the building reverberated across the school, and a loud crack echoed across the empty halls. Odd stumbled as he watched the floor start to rise, splitting off from the other side of the hallway. Ceiling tile was starting to drop from the roof, pieces of white chipping floating down without a care in the world. Bigger chunks quickly followed, and Odd rolled out of the way before a piece of plaster the size of fire hydratant fell where he had laid.

He shrieked as he got back up, trying to run away from the collapsing ceiling, dodging debris as best he could. He stopped at the end of the floor, glancing down on the at least ten meter drop to the first floor and the five meter gap between the two sections of flooring that had been split, the section he was on lower than the one that had elevated. 

He cursed his luck. His only choice was to slide down the ten meter drop. Glancing up as more debris collapsed around him, he took his chance.

He dove down just as another moan creaked thought the school. He free fell for a solid few seconds, and his eyes widened in horror as he noticed his landing.

He fell to the ground with a loud thud, his head thumping and his ankle throbbing. He felt blood on his hip, the stickiness staining his purple clothing, and he hissed as he saw a sharp piece of metal lodged in his hip. Just his luck.

Another groan shook the building, and he rolled over to dodge pieces of the roof. He screamed as pain rolled through his body, his hip bashing against the cold concrete, causing the injury to intensify and his agony grew. 

He was screwed, he realised; he couldn’t walk, Not with what seemed to be a broken ankle and a pierced hip. He dug into his pocket, searching for his phone. 

He needed to call someone. He needed help.

His hands came back empty. His phone must have been dropped in the hustle to leave the building. He shuddered as the floor beneath him shifted again, earthquakes racking his body like shivers, as if it was winter instead of spring.

He tried to stand up, tried to move, but a searing pain that shot up his leg and his hip stopped him. He laid on the ground, his back flat against the cool concrete floor, his head pressed against the back of a wall. He sighed, realizing there wasn’t much to do.

Another groan caused the building to shudder, and Odd finally realised what his visions meant. The last of the support beams finally gave out, a cracking noise swiftly showing him that time was up. He watched as the roof finally caved in, watched as the walls around him buckled and crumbled, watched as giant slices of tiled ceiling pieces fell around him, as the entire second floor disintegrated. He felt peace as the flooring fell, losing the support it needed, watching as it headed his way.

He didn’t move. There was no point. He couldn’t escape. He was trapped.Yet he was okay with that.

He had the answers to his questions. He knew why he was no longer in the future, he knew where he was, he knew that the first vision he had, where he was robbed of sight and left blind, listened to the voices wail around him, and he finally knew what it meant. It was his funeral, and he had been inside a coffin. His friends must have been crying, giving a speech. 

Idly, he wondered if his parents had bothered to show up. Most likely not; they were always busy. Their son’s death was a thing that could be delt with later.

The darkness he had seen so many times was death.

The visions of the gang hanging out without him were the lives they were attempting to rebuild after he died. He hoped they didn’t blame themselves. It wasn’t their fault he was dead. But how did he die?

The building collapsed, dust settling about as the students ducked and attempted to spread farther. Coughing and choking was heard as the billowing dust filled their lungs, and they stared up at the looming mess. Teachers were terrified as they tried to make sure all the students were accounted for, just like before the collapse. They attempted to calm the mass hysteria, a difficult task considering how frantic the teens were. There was a scream.

Someone realised a boy was missing from their class. They erupted into mass hysteria as they realised that one of their peers, their friends, was still inside. Odd was still inside the building, most likely crushed to a pulp. They shrieked and cried and were horrified at the realisation that they might never see a prank from him, hear his voice, see him smile, annoy a teacher. But they would be fine. In fact, no one would remember this.

A white light started to encase the students, creeping up to swallow the dilapidated school. But it was too late.

There was a bloody mess in the first level, a broken body laying on the ground, a peaceful expression on his still smiling face, his muscles still tense from having recently passed, his hair matted with his own blood, and cuts and bruises littered his battered body, legs snapped and arms twisted at all the wrong angles, bones peeking through pale skin, purple clothing stained a dark, rusty red.

They were too late.

Even when time reset, and the group found itself sitting at breakfast just hours before the incident, it didn’t matter. The boy who had been alive mere seconds before, laughing at his own joke, amusing his friends with silly puns, withered away without a sound, collapsed to the ground with a thud, his tray clattering behind him. His heart had stopped, his pulse gone. All visible wounds from before disappeared without a trace, but his soul was severed from his body, and no program could fix that.

No matter how hard Jeremie screamed, how hard Ulrich cried, how hard Yumi ran, it didn’t matter. Jeremie had realised that when the building had collapsed, Odd was inside of it. That when he had checked the news while the others were on Lyoko, and assumed he had evacuated with the others, he did so not knowing he had his Future Flash by the dorm rooms, not realising no one had checked there, since no one was supposed to be there. 

That was when the warriors learned that no, not even the return to the past, which can raise collapsed buildings and save them from nuclear attacks, can raise the dead. 

But at least he had the answers.

Maybe some futures just weren’t meant to be changed, no matter the warnings you were given.

**Author's Note:**

> This. This got angsty real quick. Uh.  
> Anyway, I always really liked the Garbage Kids au. It’d be really neat if they had their powers in real life, especially since Odd can’t seem to control his. I kind of wish they had stuck to the idea, but I still love the canon Code Lyoko.


End file.
